


Hate to Smoke (Without Me)

by louhazpride



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bets, Bottom Louis, Enemies to Lovers, Funny, Laser Tag, M/M, Mild Smut, Niall's there, Set Ups, Top Harry, Weed, but you have to squint to see him, terrible neighbour fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25528693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louhazpride/pseuds/louhazpride
Summary: “For fuck’s sake,” he huffs, grabbing the pillow and pulling it on top of his head in an attempt to block out the banging coming from the other side of the wall.It’s the third time this week that his neighbour has woken him up in the middle of the night with his little ‘rendezvous.’ Honestly, he's quite sick of it.  There’s only so much sex he can bear to hear in one week and he has already hit his limit.  If he wanted to listen to someone having sex, he’d turn to porn.As if the noises weren’t enough, Harry immediately becomes aware of the faint aroma of weed filling his flat.“I’m going to murder him.”Sleep. Harry just wants one good night of sleep.  However, his neighbour has a thing for headboard-banging-against-the-wall-sex every night.  After a secret set-up and a bet, Harry may finally get the sleep he so much desires.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 44
Kudos: 586





	Hate to Smoke (Without Me)

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe that I am finished with this gem!! It has been my baby for a while, and I am so excited to finally share it with you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Inspired by Always You, but _loosely_ based on my frustrations for my previous college roommate. 
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who beta'd at some point in the writing process [Jada](https://justthegirljada.tumblr.com), [Mimi](https://larrythedreamteam.tumblr.com), [Emma](https://sashinalash.tumblr.com), and [MJ](https://louislouisohbaby.tumblr.com) I couldn't have done this without you!
> 
> Additionally, I want to thank [Tabby](https://fallinglikethis.tumblr.com) for the amazing artwork.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Harry’s eyes flash open. He rubs them, then looks around the dark room, unsure as to what it was that woke him up.

_Thump._

There’s a moment of realisation.

“For fuck’s sake,” he huffs, grabbing the pillow and pulling it on top of his head in an attempt to block out the banging sound coming from the other side of the wall.

It’s the third time this week that his neighbour has woken him up in the middle of the night with his little ‘rendezvous.’ Honestly, he is quite sick of it. There’s only so much sex he can bear to hear in one week and he has already hit his limit. If he wanted to listen to someone having sex, he’d turn to porn.

As if the noises weren’t enough, Harry immediately becomes aware of the faint aroma of weed filling his flat.

“I’m going to murder him.”

Knowing it’s only a matter of time before the entire room begins to smell like skunk, he fumbles blindly to the nearest window. He knows from previous experience that it’s a futile attempt at airing out the horrid smell, but he believes it is preferable to basking in it.

As he stumbles back to his bed, he makes a mental note to research alternative methods for getting rid of the smell. Upon jumping back into his bed—because nobody has time for the possible monsters underneath—he tucks his face into his pillow and urges himself to fall back to sleep.

 _Thump._ The entire wall separating their bedrooms shakes.

He lets out a huff of annoyance as he reopens his eyes. He searches aimlessly for his mobile then mutters a curse when he accidentally knocks it off the bed.

Leaning his entire upper body off of the bed, he pats the hardwood floor in an effort to find it. The entire room brightens as his fingers unexpectedly tap the screen. The light assaults his sensitive eyes so he is forced to close them as he tightly grasps it in his hand and uses his abdominal muscles to pull himself back onto the bed.

When he is sitting upright and the blood rushing from his head isn’t making him feel dizzy, Harry touches the screen once again.

2:56 a.m.

The anger he feels only grows.

_Thump._

He’s boiling.

_Thump. Thump._

Not able to take it anymore, Harry slams his fist against the shared wall in hopes that his neighbour will take the hint.

He doesn’t.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

And Harry decides at that very moment that he hates his neighbour.

__________

Some would say he is being overly dramatic—Liam—or that he’s being too innocent—Zayn—but he believes he has valid reasons for his anger.

It has been three weeks.

 _Three weeks_ since Harry has gone longer than two days without smelling the aftermath of his neighbour smoking pot or hearing the ruckus coming from his neighbour’s flat during the late hours of the night.

Three weeks since Harry hasn’t needed to conduct a ‘smell check’ on his clothing before leaving the flat in fear that some oblivious passerby would think he’s the type of person to always smoke a blunt in his free time.

Three weeks since his inconsiderate neighbour moved in and completely ruined his life.

Harry loves—well, loved—his flat before his terrible neighbour moved in. It’s not the newest or the most well kept, but it’s cosy and the rent is far cheaper than any other accommodation nearby. In his mind, the positives always outweighed the negatives—until now.

The moment his neighbour moved in, Harry, unfortunately, became aware of the many downsides to his flat. The once larger apartment—now split into two studio flats where he and his neighbour live—has become the centre of all of Harry’s current frustrations. The biggest flaws are the paper-thin wall separating the two flats and the shared air filtration system. Not only does Harry have to share the same air that his neighbour frequently smokes in, but he has the luxury of hearing _everything_ that happens next door.

“I told you not to sign a lease there,” Liam retorts as he reaches across the table for the textbook Harry has strategically placed on the vacant seat.

Without thinking, Harry moves his backpack into the chair to create a deterrent for any uninvited guests. Harry’s not in the mood to socialise with people he doesn’t know. More importantly, he’s not in the mood to dodge the unwanted flirting.

While most guys would find it rather pleasant to be approached, Harry doesn’t. He finds it weird and unsettling.

“But I moved in first!” Harry groans, letting his head fall onto the wooden table with a thud. “I was perfectly happy until he moved in. I haven’t slept properly in weeks.”

“Then talk to him,” Liam grumbles. “The sooner you make him aware of the problem, the sooner I have to stop listening to you moan about it.”

“I _have_ made him aware, thank you very much. I’ve—”

“Leaving passive-aggressive sticky notes on his front door is not going to solve your problem.”

“How did you…” Harry gawks at him slightly offended yet creeped out that Liam knew about the notes.

“You seem to have forgotten that I lived with your arse for an entire year,” Liam gives him a levelling gaze. “I still remember the stupid notes stuck all over the flat telling me to pick up my trainers, do the washing up, and not to invite people over because it was and I quote”—fingers mimicking air quotes—“‘study Saturday.’”

Harry puffs out a breath of air. ”You cannot lie and say that ‘study Saturday’ didn’t benefit you,” he preaches. “You passed several exams because of it.”

“Not my point,” Liam sighs. “You cannot just leave a note on somebody’s door and expect them to cater to your wishes.”

“Why not? It worked with you.”

“Because I liked you, and you were my flatmate,” he responds. “It doesn’t work that way for a stranger who couldn’t give a flying fuck about you. Get to know him. You might have more in common than you think.”

“Are you legitimately saying I need to befriend him?” He asks, astonished. Is Liam even listening to him? “I’d rather gouge out my eyes than be friends with him.”

“I’m saying you need to find a reason to make him want to stop. I’m sure he isn’t going to take too kindly to a stranger who leaves notes on his door.”

“He should stop because it’s the neighbourly thing to do.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t work like that,” Liam sighs.

Harry doesn’t respond nor does he finish any of the work that he meant to complete during this study session with Liam. He’s too focused on their conversation. Harry cannot fathom that Liam would suggest for him to befriend somebody so... _appalling._

Before he knows it, Liam is beginning to pack up his items with an apologetic look. Harry dismisses it with a shake of his head and begins to gather his stuff knowing that Liam will offer to drive him home so he doesn’t have to wait for the bus.

“I know Thursday nights are typically our nights, but Zayn wants to have a couple of friends over tomorrow,” Liam starts, looking warily at Harry. “There’ll be alcohol, but it won’t be anything too wild. You’re still welcome to join us.”

Harry screws up his face. It’s not that he’s against drinking per se—he drinks when he’s with people he’s comfortable with—he just doesn’t particularly like drinking alcohol around strangers. He’s learned from his past mistakes that drunk people make dumb mistakes, and he is not keen to be part of it.

Harry is a touchy-feely drunk and after enough alcohol, he becomes flirty and hard to handle. Three shots of tequila—his now forbidden drink—is enough for him to start removing his clothes. A quirk that Liam’s previous boyfriend strongly disapproved of after finding Harry nearly naked in Liam’s bed. Despite Liam’s claims that nothing had happened and that Harry was like a brother to him, he refused to listen. Instead, he tried to limit their contact by claiming that he did not trust Harry.

He definitely didn’t last long.

Zayn, on the other hand, never questions Harry’s relationship with Liam. He finds Harry’s quirks amusing—even when they are directed at him.

Zayn is good. Harry likes Zayn.

“I’ll think about it,” Harry states, knowing that he’ll most likely bail. It can’t hurt to miss one Thursday night.

“Please come,” Liam pleads. “I promise they’re great people. I know you’ll like them if you give ‘em a chance.”

He opens his mouth to argue but is stopped by the pucker of Liam’s bottom lip. He lets out a sigh.

“Fine.”

Without fail, Harry’s neighbour wakes him up at 2:15 that morning, and Harry spends the next hour with a pillow over his head fuming with anger. The two hours following that is spent trying to force himself back to sleep.

By the time his alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m., it doesn’t even feel like he’s slept.

Harry has never been one to function well with lack of sleep. In order to feel like a decent human being, he needs at least seven hours. Since his unruly neighbour has moved in, he has been getting an average of three hours each night.

He goes through all of the motions of his day feeling like a zombie, and by the looks he receives, probably looking like one too. He’s exhausted and wants to do nothing more than to go back home and snuggle in his bed.

But instead of going home, Harry decides to go to Liam’s house early. There’s nothing that Liam can do or say that will stop him from taking a quick nap on his couch.

On the Uber trip to Liam’s house, Harry scrolls through Instagram on his phone to prevent himself from falling asleep, and by the time he knocks on the front door, he is swaying on his feet. To a normal person, he may look drunk—or even high—but at this point, he couldn’t care less.

The door opens.

“Well,” Liam pauses, “you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, tugging off his coat before draping it on the hook near the door. “I’m gonna take a nap, don’t even try to stop me.”

Before Liam has the chance to respond, Harry is shuffling through the room to drop onto the couch with full intentions to ignore the possible lecture about to come out of Liam’s mouth.

He closes his eyes.

But what feels like mere seconds later, Harry is awakened by the sound of the front door swinging open and a variety of voices filling the room. Harry groans and tries to snuggle further into the couch to get away from the noise.

“Harry,” Liam shakes his shoulder.

Harry bats him away. “Go away.”

He shakes Harry’s shoulder even harder. “Zayn and his friends are here.”

“Don’t care,” his sleepy voice cracks. “Wanna sleep.”

He flips on the couch and begins to make himself comfortable again. When Liam doesn’t respond, Harry smiles to himself and begins the descent into dreamland once again.

It doesn’t last long.

He is rudely woken up again by a gush of cold water. Immediately, Harry’s eyes fly open to see a smirking Liam.

“Time to get up, sunshine! You’ve been asleep for two hours,” Liam states in response to the icy glare Harry gives him.

“Fuck off.”

Despite the protests from his body, Harry grudgingly sits up.

“Don’t mind him,” Liam states. “He’s been having trouble sleeping.”

“I can sleep just fine,” Harry retorts. “My neighbour is just an arse who doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants.”

This earns a chuckle from the group. Harry feels pleased with himself. At least they can appreciate his dislike for his neighbour, unlike someone he knows.

“So, uh…” Liam starts. “These are Zayn’s mates, Niall and Louis.”

The first thought Harry has when his eyes sweep over the two new faces in the room is that he is thankful that Liam indeed told the truth when he said only a couple of friends of Zayn’s were coming over. The second thought? If Harry had a type of guy, it would definitely be the boy on the left.

His eyes rake over the boy starting at the tips of his toes. When his gaze finally settles on his face, Harry’s cheeks turn a dark crimson. The boy’s eyes are crinkled and his mouth is set into a small smirk as he watches Harry very openly check him out.

Harry looks away out of embarrassment and clears his throat. “‘m Harry.”

__________

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that the first thing Harry feels the morning after is regret. His head feels like it is moments away from exploding. The light filtering into the room from the large window only makes the pain worse. Maybe the sheer white curtains were not the best option.

He doesn’t have time to ponder all of his life choices because the next moment, Harry feels the uneasy fluttering in his stomach. It’s a pretty accurate indicator that he needs to go to the toilet immediately.

Flinging the blankets off of himself, he rushes into the bathroom.

He never drinks more than a single cranberry juice with vodka, but one drink led to another and now he’s paying for it. He feels like utter shit and there’s nobody to blame but himself—even if Liam made a whole batch of vodka-soaked Haribo gummy bears knowing they were his weakness.

As the initial pain and nausea begin to subside enough for Harry to put together proper thoughts, he grabs paracetamol out of the medicine cabinet above the sink and uses the water cup sitting by his toothbrush holder to wash the two tablets down.

A short while later, the sickly feeling from earlier has disappeared leaving Harry feeling rejuvenated thanks to a scalding hot shower. Humming to himself, Harry pats his hair dry. Careful not to rub it, in fear that he’ll damage his short, delicate curls and create frizz. He exits the bathroom with the towel still partially over his eyes.

He walks blindly through his small room before he begins to think better of the idea, knowing that it is only a matter of time before he stubs one of his toes on the corner of some random piece of furniture.

The towel lands with a _plop_ on the floor.

“Nice bum,” a voice remarks.

“Fuck!” Harry spins around quickly. One hand going up to soothe his rapidly beating heart while the other attempts—and fails—to hide his dick from the unexpected guest.

He doesn’t remember coming home, _let alone_ bringing Louis with him.

“I didn’t know you were here!”

Louis smiles bemusedly, an eyebrow quirked. “Figured as much. You were pretty out of it last night. Didn’t want to leave you alone.” Louis’ eyes fall down to where Harry still has his penis cradled in his hand, his cheeks reddening.

Turning around, Harry begins to quickly look through the drawer to find a pair of clean pants to put on. In his haste to get them on, Harry almost falls face-first onto the floor. Louis sniggers and sits up in the bed, his back resting against the wall. The white sheet is lying on his lower region leaving his upper torso bare.

Harry eyes him apprehensively. He’d like to believe that even his drunk self would have enough self-control not to fuck someone he’d just met, but weirder things have happened. His drunk flirty personality leading to more bathroom blowjobs than he’d like to admit.

“Did we…?”

Louis’ eyes widen comically before he begins to shake his head frantically, seemingly appalled that Harry would even assume such things.

“Absolutely not! You got sick.” Louis’ face wrinkles as he motions to the pile lying on the floor near the hamper. “Our clothes didn’t make it.”

Harry’s cheeks flame in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’ll wash your clothes. In the meantime, you can borrow something of mine.”

He turns back to the chest of drawers and pulls out a smaller pair of joggers and a t-shirt for Louis. While Louis is getting dressed, Harry focuses his attention on putting their soiled clothes in the washer that’s hidden in the small closet between his bathroom door and kitchenette.

When he is finished, Harry flops onto his bed with the lower part of his body lying on top of Louis.

“How are you not hungover?”

Louis wiggles underneath him. “Had plenty of water. Was pretty sober by the time I finished taking care of you last night.”

“Sorry you had to witness that,” Harry mumbles rolling off of him. “Should’ve just left me with Liam and Zayn. They’ve dealt with me before.”

“You were pretty adamant about staying with me,” Louis chuckles causing Harry to groan.

Of course, his drunken self would cling to the very person he found most attractive. It also didn’t help that Louis was his partner for some of the drunken games which lead to them being in some compromising positions.

He vaguely remembers himself sitting on Louis’ lap while playing a game of suck and blow. Funnily enough, he and Louis decided to create their own rules. Instead of passing a singular playing card from one person to the next using only their mouths, they opted to forego the playing card. Harry’s almost certain they spent a better part of the game with their tongues interlocked.

Harry’s face gets hot at the memory.

“I don’t remember that. Everything’s a bit…fuzzy after Jenga.”

“So you don’t remember offering to give me a blowjob?”

The air leaves Harry’s lungs and his eyes widen in horror. “I did not!”

Louis nods with an amused smirk playing on his face. “Told me I had a great bum as well.”

“Oh god,” Harry hides his face into the palms of his hands. “When?” He doesn’t think he has ever been so forward with somebody before, but he also doesn’t think he’s been this enticed by someone since his ex-boyfriend two years ago.

“When I was stripping our clothes after you got sick. Had to bribe you with a kiss to keep your pants on,”—Harry grimaces and looks down—“but you went out like a light before I had the chance to fulfil my end of the bargain.”

“Of course I did,” he mutters. “I don’t have any boundaries when I’m drunk.”

Louis begins to shake with laughter. Harry glares.

“I’m glad you’re finding it funny. I find it horrifying.”

“What?” Louis sounds baffled. “You don’t agree with your drunk self?” Louis eyes him curiously, his eyes lighting up with glee when Harry’s face becomes an even darker shade of red. “You do!” he chimes. “You think I’m fit!”

“Don’t get too excited.”

“How can I not? You think I’m fit,” Louis gloats.

“You’re insufferable.”

The conversation regarding Harry’s drunken admiration is dropped as the two boys opt to turn on the TV. They spend the next several hours binge-watching Friends.

Harry has never been more thankful for an extended weekend off than he is at this very moment. Nothing would be worse than having to spend four hours in the organic chemistry lab trying to create biodiesel from cooking oil.

Halfway through the tenth episode of the day, Louis flips to his side and props himself on his elbow. Harry’s eyes leave the television to meet his eyes, but he quickly adverts them. The playful look in Louis’ eyes is too reminiscent of the look he wore during their staring contest the night before that ended in a heated snog session.

However, Louis’ stare does not cease, even as Harry attempts to refocus his attention back on the show. He doesn’t want to give Louis the satisfaction of distracting him, but once Louis realises that staring is not going to produce the expected reaction, he begins to make faces.

From his peripheral vision, Harry can see Louis cross his eyes and grin widely with his mouth closed. Harry bites his lips to stifle a laugh. Louis pokes at one of the dimples that form on his cheeks.

Harry continues to ignore him, but that doesn’t stop Louis. First, he pokes Harry’s dimples then slowly works his way down until he is poking at the spot directly under Harry’s ribcage. The spot that happens to be one of Harry’s most ticklish spots.

A giggle leaves Harry’s lips as he shies away from the touch. This seems to fuel Louis because, in the next moment, Louis is sitting on top of him and digging his bony fingers into Harry’s sides as the younger boy is shrieking in protest.

“Stop!” he cries amidst a bubble of laughter. “I…can’t…breathe!” Harry tries to roll out from underneath Louis, but it only makes him tickle more diligently. “Louis!”

It’s a battle. Louis having the upper hand due to Harry’s extreme sensitivity to tickling. Something that is his one true weakness. Eventually, Harry is able to grasp Louis’ hands to stop him from continuing the attack.

He struggles to catch his breath as his eyes meet a smug Louis. The air between them is light.

When Harry is sure that Louis will not begin to attack once more, he slowly releases his wrists, eyeing him carefully. “Was that really necessary?”

Louis pouts, “I wanted attention.” He presses his left hand into the bed next to Harry’s left ear, creating a small indention. Harry thinks nothing of it and looks up at Louis with a crinkled nose.

“You couldn’t have just said something like a _normal_ human being?”

Louis shakes his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Why would I do that?”

“Because…”

Louis looks down at Harry with heavy-lidded eyes before whispering, “But I quite like where I ended up.”

Harry inhales a quick breath. This conversation suddenly taking a turn in a different direction. The hunger within him ignites as all thoughts become superfluous but one—he wants Louis.

As if under a spell, he bites his lower lip causing Louis’ eyes to flicker down. The corner of his mouth twitches, his head slightly moving forward in silent question.

Harry’s heart beats faster and faster. The blood humming rapidly through his veins has his whole body tingling with anticipation. But the movements are slow and calculated as Louis lowers his body to rest slightly on Harry’s, their lips only millimetres apart.

Harry feels heavy with the desire to grasp Louis’ neck and pull him closer to close the remaining distance between their lips. He’s never felt the yearn to kiss someone so strongly before.

The long-awaited press of Louis’ lips is a barely-there touch that causes goose pimples to erupt on his skin. A sweet promise for what’s to come next.

He invades all of Harry’s senses leaving him feeling dazed and unable to focus on anything but the sweet feeling of Louis pressing him into the mattress. But the touch is gone far too quickly leaving Harry in need, nerves stretched tautly.

The second time his lips brush over Harry’s, an onslaught of desire tingles through his body. He can feel the slight upward curve of Louis’ lips as they form a smirk before Louis is pulling away once more—teasing him.

Harry groans out in frustration. Louis knows what he is doing to him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Wanna know a secret?” he purrs, voice coming out thick.

Not able to trust his voice, Harry nods his head, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

Moving to his ear, Louis gently nibbles on the lobe before whispering hotly, “I think you’re quite fit too.”

Time stops.

Before Harry is able to fully comprehend the statement, Louis’ greedy mouth captures him in a kiss that is anything but sweet. Harry feels intoxicated as their lips slide messily against one another.

It’s a feeling like no other.

Harry is completely absorbed in the feeling of Louis on top of him, tongue dipping and swirling into his mouth between their rapid, shallow breaths.

Louis shifts causing their growing erections to rub together. Shuddering, Harry releases a quiet moan in between kisses. Lust is swirling hotly in the pit of his stomach as he grips tightly to Louis’ waist.

The singular shift turns into repeated thrusting. Harry feels light-headed. The aching tension in his abdomen continuing to build. Harry meets Louis’ thrusts in a frenzied race to fulfilment.

Minutes later, Harry is only seconds away from toppling over the edge when… _no,_ Louis stops. A whine of protest leaves Harry’s lips as he tries to chase the orgasm but is left unsatisfied.

This feeling is quickly replaced by ecstasy as Louis pushes his hand past the opening of Harry’s briefs to circle his hand around Harry’s aching length. Vision blackening, his hips jerk at the contact.

Breaking the kiss, Louis trails his lips up to Harry’s ear and breathes, “Want to you fuck me.”

Harry stiffens.

Noticing immediately, Louis raises up. “You alright?”

Harry releases a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t…typically do this.”

“You’re a…” Louis’ eyes go wide as he completely removes all contact with Harry. “Shit! I’m so sorry. I just assumed that you—”

“No!” Harry pulls Louis back to him, embarrassed by Louis’ assumption that he’s a virgin. That’s far from the truth. “I just don’t typically shag people I’ve just met.”

Harry is not about to admit that the last time he had sex was with his ex-boyfriend. He doesn’t want to come off as a prude. He enjoys sex just as much as the next person, but he’d rather do it with someone he is comfortable with. Harry has never been a fan of one night stands. There are so many things that could go wrong.

“I want to fuck you,” Harry grunts flipping them over. To solidify his decision and prevent any protests from Louis, he grinds down dirtily while sealing their mouths together.

Typically, Harry isn’t the type to take chances, but in this case—with Louis—he’ll take all the chances. He fully believes that doing things out of his comfort zone is important.

Other times, it’s catastrophic.

Just as he is slipping into Louis after a hasty prep, he hears Louis breathe out a sentence that has him freezing on the spot.

Harry pulls back slightly, his eyes squinting with confusion, “What’d you just say?”

Louis whines and tries to thrust himself downwards in hopes that Harry will continue to push inside, but Harry places a hand on his hip stopping him. He refuses to go any further until he hears Louis confirm that what he had heard was only a figment of his imagination.

“Louis,” he warns, his levelling gaze meeting Louis’ from above.

With a sigh, Louis starts, “I said that if I’d known you lived next door”—Harry’s heart falters—“I’d have come over ages ago.”

Harry removes his eyes from Louis and settles them on the wall directly in front of him. He’s frozen. The unbearable thumping replays in the back of his mind as he realises what this means. Harry lives in the corner flat. Technically speaking, he only has one neighbour. A neighbour whom he despises more than anything. If Louis lives next door then that would mean Louis is, in fact, _that_ neighbour.

“You’re kidding... _right_?”

“What?” Louis furrows his brows looking up at him. He shuffles slightly bringing attention to the fact that Harry’s dick is still slightly nestled in his ass. “No, why would I—“

“What the fuck?” Harry’s voice turning shrill. He slips out of Louis quickly and completely pushes himself away as if he’d been burned. Removing the condom, Harry stumbles to a pair of discarded briefs on the floor and jerks them on.

“Harry,” Louis sighs, sitting up on the bed. Harry shoots him a look full of anger at him as he picks up the other pair and throws them in Louis’ direction.

“You heard me talk about how much I bloody hate my neighbour last night”—Harry runs a hand through his hair—“and not once did it ever occur to you to tell me that you were that neighbour?”

“I didn’t know until I brought you home. I couldn’t just leave you here alone. We’ve had a great day, that small fact shouldn’t change anything.“

“ _‘Small fact’?_ ” He laughs harshly _. “_ But it does! I wouldn’t have stuck my dick in you if I had known.”

The thought of having sex someone who fucks a different person—he assumes—nearly every day of the week makes Harry’s skin crawl.

Harry stomps through the room before coming to a stop at the door. Jerking it open, he glares at Louis. “Get out.”

When Louis doesn’t make a move, Harry’s face turns sour.

“Wait…you’re _serious_?”

“As serious as a heart attack,” Harry responds shortly. “Now, get out.”

__________

Harry has always believed in the saying “expect the unexpected,” but he never would have predicted for this to happen.

And out of the long list of things that could have gone wrong during his hookup with Louis, nothing could have prepared him for this.

Absolutely _nothing_.

Why does his terrible neighbour have to be somebody that all of his friends loved?

Why does he have to be someone that Harry could have seen himself getting along nicely with?

And _why_ does he have to be someone he could see himself fantasising about?

He never would have—not even for a moment—suspected that Louis would turn out to be his infuriating neighbour. How can somebody so kind, funny, and hot be someone that Harry hates with every fibre of his being?

Fate has a funny way of screwing with him.

“I took your advice,” Harry declares, walking into Zayn and Liam’s house unannounced. He is too caught up in the anger of Louis being his neighbour that he doesn’t hear the shuffling coming from the other side of the room. “I befriended the enemy and—”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Liam snidely questions.

Harry furrows his brows and turns to face the annoyed voice.

The colour drains from his face.

“Shit,” he blurts, covering his eyes with his hands. “I’m sorry!”

Liam responds with a huff as he finishes pulling on a pair of pants before tossing joggers to a flushed Zayn. In the two years that they have been dating, this is the first time that Harry has ever walked in on them in the middle of….the deed.

“I…“ he removes his hands and eyes them warily, “I can come back later.”

Harry fully believes that he is more embarrassed by the situation than they are. His cheeks tinted pink while he struggles to keep his eyes on the two of them.

“You’re already here,” Liam responds. “Might as well stay.”

Harry awkwardly stands at the door, unsure of what he should do. He knows they must be pissed that he ruined their mood. He would have been if one of them walked in on him and Louis. He scrunches his face at the thought. No, he’s almost certain that he would be rather pleased if they walked in on them.

It’d be a silent blessing.

It’s easy to hide his anger toward someone he has never met because he’d easily be able to pretend that the person does not exist, but now Harry is faced with the dilemma that his neighbour is someone that he shares mutual friends with.

Unfortunately, that means he cannot pretend that Louis does not exist. It also means that it will be almost impossible to ignore thoughts about what had happened only hours before. The vision of Louis’ naked body beneath him is permanently ingrained in his brain.

Zayn brings him out of his thoughts by patting the spot next to him. “Come tell us what the neighbour did this time.”

“More like what he didn’t do,” Harry mutters. “He doesn’t just ruin my sleep, he’s ruining my whole life. Sex included,” Harry groans putting his head in his hands. “Louis spent the night, and I was seconds away from being balls deep when—“

“You fucked Louis?” Zayn’s eyes widen comically. “I know Liam and I kind of set you two up, but I figured it would take at least a couple weeks before—”

“No! I barely stuck my—wait…you were trying to set us up?“

“Why else do you think I introduced you?”

“I don’t know. You and Liam are finally getting serious, I figured it was only a matter of time before I met your friends and Niall—“

“Was just a buffer,” Zayn shrugs. “But I can’t believe our plan worked! You and Louis fucked!”

“We didn’t—“

“Hold up!” Liam tilts his head in confusion. “As much as I’d love to hear about how you fucked Louis, I thought we were talking about your neighbour?”

“I didn’t fuck Louis and we are!”

“I’m not following,” Liam explains. Zayn seems to have realised where the conversation is leading because the grin on his face continues to grow. “Then why are we talking about your sex with Lou—“

“Because Louis bloody Tomlinson turned out to be my fucking neighbour, okay?”

Having his suspicions confirmed, Zayn bursts into laughter.

“You’re telling me that _you_ are the neighbour who keeps leaving sticky notes on Lou’s door?” Zayn’s laughter gets louder. “That’s gold!”

Harry’s eyes narrow. “He’s told you?”

Zayn nods his head while trying to contain his laughter. “He continues to do it just to rile you up.”

Liam hits Zayn in the chest while muttering softly, “You’re not helping.”

Harry’s anger for Louis increases tenfold.

“He’s vile.”

With a slight smirk forming on his face, Liam pouts, “But you were getting along so nicely!”

“He—“

The front door slams open, and Louis steps through the threshold while exclaiming, “You would not believe—“ but stops upon seeing Harry already sitting on the couch with an unwavering glare in his direction.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Louis jokes with a smirk. Harry wants to kiss it off. _Wait._ No. He wants to punch it off.

Unaware of the silent tension brewing between the two boys, Liam asks, “Are we not going to discuss how nobody seems to know how to knock anymore?”

“You’re doing it on fucking purpose?” Harry seethes, ignoring Liam’s comment. “I haven’t slept properly in _weeks_.”

“Slept pretty great last night if you ask me,” Zayn snickers from behind, earning an elbow to the ribcage.

Harry continues to rant, “I can’t believe you had the audacity to fucking—”

“I need a smoke,” Louis interrupts, turning to his right and making a beeline for Zayn’s room leaving a gaping Harry sitting in the living room between a very amused Liam and Zayn.

Harry throws himself back into the couch and mutters, “He’s insufferable. I hate him.”

Liam laughs.

“Fifty pounds they’ll end up together within the next month,” Zayn mumbles to Liam as he stands up to follow Louis.

Harry gasps, “I heard that!”

“Good.”

__________

It is a known fact that Harry is a clumsy person; therefore, he shall not be blamed for the unfortunate situations that come from this. But even Harry cannot blame his clumsiness as the cause for falling directly on top of Louis at the bottom of the stairwell.

It was an honest mistake.

Technically speaking, it was Harry’s fault that the two of them fell in the first place, but it wasn’t his fault that he landed on top of Louis. The blame should go completely to Louis.

One second he is walking down the stairs while typing a message to Liam and the next he is bumping into Louis, who is carrying a box so big that he cannot see in front of him.

The collision immediately causing Louis to lose his balance and begin stumbling backwards. In a matter of seconds, Harry is reaching out to prevent Louis from tumbling down the stairs, but he’s unsuccessful. Instead, he finds himself getting tugged down the stairs alongside Louis.

_Thwack!_

They land at the bottom in a mess of tangled limbs. Louis’ battered box falls to their right landing on its side.

The first thing that comes to Harry’s mind after the fall should not be how Louis’ ragged breathing causes him to remember how breathless Louis became when he brushed his fingertips along Louis’ prostate while in a hurry to prep him or the loud moans of pleasure Louis emitted when Harry’s dick slowly stretched him open.

He also shouldn’t think about how he can picture Louis fucking himself on his dick each time he hears the wall thump at night. An additional reason why he hates hearing the ungodly noises coming from Louis’ flat is because it’s one thing to hear it, but to be able to picture it is a completely different story.

Thankfully, these thoughts completely halt when he hears Louis groan out from beneath him. Momentarily forgetting about his antipathy toward him, Harry asks, “You alright?”

A strained voice replies, “I’d be better if you got off.”

“Right,” he laughs awkwardly.

It takes several attempts before Harry is able to untangle his long giraffe-like legs and roll himself off of Louis. He stands up and reaches a hand out to Louis who takes it with a grateful look on his face.

“You’ve got a…“ Harry motions to a cut on Louis’ left cheek. It doesn’t seem too serious, but Louis touches the wound and winces. Harry reaches for Louis’ box and begins to climb the stairs throwing a, “Come on, I’ll take care of it,” over his shoulder.

Louis tries to deny the help as he follows Harry up the stairs, but Harry refuses to listen. Being the cause of the wound, Harry feels obligated to take care of it.

He unlocks his door and places the box on the floor. He watches as Louis toes off his shoes by the door before motioning for him to sit down on the bed while he grabs the first aid kit.

Kneeling between Louis’ legs, Harry quickly stops the bleeding by applying pressure to the injury. He listens quietly as Louis rambles about his family. Harry is surprised to hear that Louis has six siblings. There’s a small, fond smile on his face as he tells Harry that the box contains a birthday gift for the youngest set of twins.

After several minutes of Harry nodding and humming in response to Louis’ monologue, Louis states, “I kinda figured you’d be the type to do it roughly, you know, kind of push it in there.”

Harry chokes on his own spit as he looks at Louis scandalised. “I really hope you’re talking about my first-aid abilities.”

Louis’ eyes crinkle as a devious smile appears on his face. “What else would I be talking about dear Harold?” Harry gives him a scathing look. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I like it when you’re gentle.”

Harry pauses momentarily to look him in the eyes, he replies, “I wouldn’t talk so soon if I were you. I haven’t used the disinfectant yet.” Louis gasps in horror. “Now be quiet, you talk more than the five-year-old with the bead up her nose.”

“Wha—”

“I’m a nursing student. Now, shut up,” Harry pointedly states.

Louis finally closes his mouth and lets Harry finish his work. When it is time to clean the cut, he places his left hand on the side of Louis’ head before lightly dabbing the cotton pad on the lesion.

Louis hisses and attempts to jerk back, but Harry’s hold prevents him from moving away. Seconds later, Harry is gently blowing on the wound to soothe it. It’s something he learned from his mum while he was growing up. His clumsiness always resulted in tons of bruises and scrapes that she would need to doctor up.

“Done,” he whispers, looking into Louis’ eyes. He’s close enough that he can see the array of different shades that cause his blue eyes to sparkle.

He should be pulling away and creating space between them, but he doesn’t.

Harry thinks back to the last time they were together in his flat before it all went up in flames. They had gotten along so well. He’s sure that if Louis hadn’t turned out to be his horrendous neighbour things between them would be different. He fully believes that Zayn and Liam’s secret attempt at setting them up would have gone swimmingly. By the way that Louis made him feel by a single kiss, there’s no doubt in his mind that he and Louis would’ve continued meeting up. He refuses to admit it now, but Louis is exactly the type of guy that he could see himself with.

Their noses brush which effectively brings him out of his thoughts. When did this happen? He doesn’t recall moving forward. Their breaths intertwine and Harry nearly melts when their lips collide in a soft open-mouthed kiss.

It doesn’t matter how badly Harry wants himself to believe that kissing Louis would be a bad thing, he cannot get enough of him. His body craves to have a piece of him. It’s like Louis’ a drug and Harry is the addict.

Three brisk taps on the door cause Harry to spring away with furrowed eyes. “Who’s that?” he mutters to himself as he pulls his mobile out of his pocket to check the time. “Fuck!” He looks at Louis with wide eyes. “I was meant to meet Liam for lunch half an hour ago. You gotta hide!”

Liam seeing Louis inside Harry’s flat is an invitation to start discussions about how he and Zayn were right about Harry falling in love with Louis, and he is not sure if he’d ever be ready to succumb himself to those types of conversations.

Louis’ face is a mask of confusion. “Why do I need to—”

“He can’t see you here, now get up!”

“And where exactly do you suggest I go?” Louis sassily replies, gesturing around the room.

Harry has never felt more disdain for his tiny flat than he does at this very moment. The room leaves no solid places for Louis to hide, and hiding Louis in the bathroom is pointless. There’s no telling whether or not Liam will have the sudden urge to go to the toilet and blow his cover.

Harry is pacing around the room with his hands grasping firmly in his hair.

“Don’t just sit there, move!”

“I still don’t understand—”

“Stop questioning every decision I make. I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain it to you.”

_Knock. Knock._

Coming to a stop near the bed, an idea forms in his head. He hastily points across the room to a door. “Get in the closet!”

Louis stands up from the bed and folds his arms across his chest seemingly unbothered by the prospect of Liam finding him. “Being in the closet once in my life was enough, thank you.”

Harry firmly presses his lips together, tempted to knock Louis on the side of the head.

“Is this a joke to you?”

Louis smirks. “I do find it quite amusing.”

“You are the most unbearable pers—“

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

“Harry?” Liam calls from the other side of the door. “I know you’re in there. I can hear you.”

The handle begins to jingle and Harry’s life flashes before his eyes.

“Can you just listen for once?” Harry seethes, no longer having time to argue with Louis about getting into the closet.

He pushes Louis to the floor and forces him under the bed, ignoring Louis’ groan as he kicks his ankle.

Liam opens the door and looks around the room suspiciously. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yep,” Harry responds, slightly pitchy. He silently curses himself when he hears Louis’ faint snicker from under the bed.

Liam’s face shows that he does not particularly believe him, but he nods his head before tapping his wrist. “You do remember we were supposed to meet, right?”

“I ran into a slight problem.”

Harry can only imagine the shit-eating grin that is currently plastered on Louis’ face.

“Did that problem have anything to do with this?” he asks, eyeing the first aid kit.

“Yeah, I uh…there was a cut.” Harry motions vaguely with his hand in an attempt to not explain any further.

Liam releases a long, drawn-out, “Right,” before raising his eyebrows. “So how’s Louis?”

“Being as annoying as ever,” Harry mutters. “I still hate him.”

In response, Louis flicks him on the ankle causing Harry to nearly jump out of his skin. He stomps on Louis’ fingers in retaliation. Liam looks down sceptically.

“There was a bug,” Harry explains. “Annoying little shit. Seems to follow me everywhere.”

Liam hums. “Are you still coming to the laser tag game tonight?”

Zayn and Liam have been planning this game for a month. Thanks to Zayn’s connections, he was able to reserve the arena for their small group later in the day.

“Told you I would.”

“Great!” He claps his hand enthusiastically. “Do you think you can drive Louis?”

Harry gawks at him. “We don’t like each other,” he states slowly, puzzled as to why Liam would suggest something like that. “Why the fuck would we both willingly get in a car together?”

“I don’t think he’d mind,” Liam shrugs, pulling out his phone. “I’ll text him.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, he—” Harry’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when he hears a faint chime from under his bed after Liam sends the text. “I’m sure he would hate to ride in the car with me.”

“Louis likes you. You’re the one who isn’t giving him a chance.”

“I’m sure, he’ll _say no_ ,” Harry stresses, his voice rising at the end in hopes that Louis takes the hint.

He anxiously waits for Louis’ reply which comes only seconds later.

Liam’s eyes widen with glee, “He said yes!”

“Of course he did,” Harry mutters.

“That’s great! Zayn and I won’t have to worry about making the drive here, so it’ll be easier for everyone,” he chimes before looking at Harry’s scowling face. “Well, _mostly_ everyone.”

Harry isn’t happy. Not one bit.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Harry decides. Liam only laughs. “I’m leaving at six. If he isn’t waiting for me, I’m going without him. I don’t care if he has a ride or not. His arse will stay home.”

“Got it,” Liam states as he stands up from the bed. “Gotta pick Zayn up from work. See ya later.” He bends down to peer under the bed. “Bye Lou.”

Harry groans as Louis’ smiling face pops out. Harry throws his pillow at him.

__________

But just like Harry had suspected would happen, Louis is not waiting for him when it’s time to leave.

As frustrated as he is, Harry refuses to wait on him. It’s not his job to babysit Louis. When he gets inside the car, he spends more time than necessary connecting his phone to the aux cord and selecting a Spotify playlist.

Even as he is double-checking over his shoulder to look for any sign of the boy, Harry continues to claim that he’s not waiting for Louis.

By the time Harry has everything settled—music playing, seat belt buckled, and mirrors readjusted for the third time—it’s ten minutes past six and there is still no sign of Louis.

“Should’ve known,” he mutters as he puts his car into drive. He looks over his right shoulder to watch for oncoming traffic. Several cars pass down the otherwise empty street before it is finally clear for Harry to drive out of his parking space.

“Wait!”

_Thump._

Harry’s whole body seizes up in fear as he slams on the brakes. Worry and dread fill his body as he realises that he may have just unintentionally killed someone.

A hand waves from in front of the bonnet.

“Fuck,” he cries shifting the car into park and getting out.

There goes his perfect driving record…and freedom. He can only imagine his twenty-year-old self being led into a room wearing shackles as he waits to hear his disciplinary sentence following an attempted homicide due to reckless driving.

He scrunches his nose at the thought of sharing a holding cell with some strange, burly man who was arrested for jumping several men in the Southwark borough of London.

He rushes to the front of his car with wide, worried eyes, but upon noticing a laughing Louis, he slams his fist on the bonnet, his eyes flickering with anger. “What in bloody hell are you doing walking in front of a moving vehicle? Do you have a death wish?”

Louis holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I was trying to stop you.”

Harry’s anger increases. “You’re insane. I could’ve killed you”—Harry pokes his finger into Louis’ chest—“you twat. I ought to give you a piece of my mind.”

“What would you do?” Louis asks brazenly, grabbing ahold of Harry’s waist and pulling him closer. “Pin me up against the bonnet and kiss me?”

Harry openly gapes at Louis as the comment catches him off guard. If it weren’t for the fact that he knows Zayn, Liam, and possibly Niall are waiting for him, he’d probably take Louis up on that offer.

He pulls away trying to remind himself of all the reasons why he hates Louis.

“Get in the car. We’re going to be late.”

Thankfully, Harry manages to drive without any more Louis Tomlinson-shaped obstacles.

When they arrive at the laser tag arena, everyone is already waiting for them. Harry’s obvious dislike for Louis is not enough to prevent their mates from poking fun—Liam and Zayn still adamant that they’ll end up together.

“Heard Louis was hiding in your flat earlier,” Zayn teases, nudging Harry’s shoulder slightly. “Anything you want to tell us?” He pauses briefly before adding, “Did you two finally decide to put your differences aside?”

“No, I still hate him,” Harry testifies. Both Zayn and Liam raise an eyebrow at him, unconvinced. “What? Don’t you know the saying, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’?”

Liam chuckles, “I don’t think that means seducing your enemies.”

“I’m not. If anything, he’s the one trying to seduce me.”

Louis makes a sound of protest. “Excuse you?”

Harry gives him an unimpressed look as Zayn states, “Maybe that’s why you two were late, hmm? Had a bit of fun on the way here?”

Harry ignores their comments suggesting he and Louis had a quickie in the car in favour of picking out his equipment. Niall follows him, obviously entertained by the recent conversation, but thankfully, he doesn’t take part in the teasing. There is only so much speculation that Harry can take.

To change the conversation, Harry states, “I’m going to kick some butt,” while slipping the dark vest onto his shoulders.

“Pretty confident are we Styles?” Louis questions with a smirk. “Think you can beat me? I’ve been the reigning champ for three years.”

Harry scoffs with fake nonchalance, “I know I can beat you.”

“In your dreams, curly,” Louis shoves him which causes Harry to stumble backwards. Louis chuckles, “You’re like Bambi. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the first one out.”

Harry’s eyes turn to slits. “We’ll see about that.”

Having only played a couple of times in the past, Harry may not be the best player out of the five of them, but he makes it his mission to be the person to knock Louis off of his pedestal.

How hard could it be?

The door is opened to reveal a dark room illuminated by neon lights. Harry feels a rush of adrenaline as he steps inside. When the door closes, the five of them are left in the darkness. Harry’s eyes struggle to adjust. He narrowly misses walking directly into one of the walls.

He hopes nobody saw that.

Louis states from behind, “The rules are simple: there are no rules.”

Harry is flabbergasted. “No rules? Who the fuck decided that?”

“Me,” Louis responds, his tone sounding smug.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Of course you did.”

They walk further into the room and come to a stop in the centre. His eyes roam from Zayn to Niall to Liam. He pauses and checks again.

Where’s Louis? He was just here.

The game hasn’t even started yet, and Louis is nowhere to be found. This should have been Harry’s first warning sign. Zayn, who seems unsurprised by Louis’ disappearance, begins to remind the group how the game is played.

“If you get hit ten times you’re out. Your laser has to hit your opponent in the centre of their vest in order for the hit to count. There are sensors on the front and the back. Each time you get hit, you’ll have a five-second recovery time. The TVs scattered through will show us how many people are still in the game and how many lives they have. The game continues until someone wins. Losers buy the winner drinks.”

Niall whoops as he slams his hand onto a large green button. The televisions start the thirty-second countdown.

“Piece of advice,” Zayn whispers toward Harry. “Avoid Louis at all costs. You may think you can beat him, but you won’t. Targeting him will only get you eliminated.”

Liam pops into the conversation, “He’s a force to be reckoned with. He knows your weaknesses and he’ll use them against you.”

Harry merely nods his head still not believing that eliminating Louis will be _that_ hard.

__________

Twenty minutes later, Harry is sneaking around the arena trying to stay hidden in hopes that he will survive until the very end. He learned fairly quickly that his strengths did not lie in his ability to catch the others off guard. This mistake already costing him two of his lives.

_Buzz_

Surprised, Harry looks around in an attempt to spot the person responsible for shooting him. To his left, he catches a glimpse of Louis before he once again disappears behind a wall.

Harry exhales sharply. He truly underestimated how good Louis would be at this game. His size and speed is one of his biggest assets.

Moments later, Harry hears feet shuffling to his left. He spins quickly and takes aim. Niall’s vest goes dark and his eyes widen. He falls dramatically to the floor whilst holding firmly to his chest.

“You’ve killed me!”

Harry laughs and shakes his head at Niall’s theatrics, but his laughter halts when he is hit once again. When he turns in an attempt to detect who had hit him, all he sees is darkness. A feeling deep inside him makes him believe that the suspect is none other than Louis Tomlinson.

“Fuck.”

He moves carefully to a different wall before checking the television.

_7 lives remaining_

His vest vibrates. He quickly turns to see a smug Louis. Before Harry has the chance to shoot him, Louis disappears behind a wall. Harry follows. When he gets there, Louis is nowhere to be found.

From across the room, Harry can hear Liam’s protest of “you tricked me,” when Zayn shoots him.

He smiles to himself. In his mind, he pictures Zayn gaining Liam’s trust by stating they will work together to get Louis out, but when Liam is most unsuspecting of it Zayn shoots him from behind, eliminating him.

Harry isn’t paying attention to the game at hand. He’s too caught up in his little daydream that he does not notice a body walking up behind him; therefore, it’s not a surprise when the person whispers, “boo” in his ear before pulling the trigger.

Harry shrieks. His heart nearly jumps out of his chest.

“Bloody hell!”

“You should really pay attention, love,” Louis muses. “You’re making this too easy.”

By the time Harry’s heart settles in his chest enough to think properly, Louis has already disappeared, but not without aiming another shot in his direction.

He’s good at this game. Almost too good. His quick movements make it almost impossible for Harry to keep track of him, and it seems like every time Harry turns around Louis is already standing there waiting to shoot him.

Harry realises that if he wants to stay in this game, he needs to take Zayn’s advice and avoid Louis at all costs.

Running around a dark room is dangerous. For Harry and his unfortunate clumsiness, it is an invitation for disaster. He realises this as he trips over his own feet and falls to the floor. His gun sliding several meters away.

 _Buzz_. He looks up in shock.

“You shot me while I’m down!” He glares at Louis. “I’m not even armed.”

“Gotta take advantage of the situation.”

“Fuck off. I could’ve been hurt.”

Louis, raising an eyebrow, “Are you?”

“I—no, but that’s not the point.” Louis looks around before walking over to Harry and extending his hand. “You’re… helping me?”

“Only 'cause you’re unarmed,” Louis shrugs. “I’m feeling rather forgiving after you hit me.”

Harry glares up at him.

“You’re an idiot who thinks running in front of a moving vehicle is a good idea. I did not hit you on purpose!”

“Coming from the person who has said on multiple occasions he wants to kill me?” Louis gives him a knowing look. “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”

Harry rolls his eyes and bats Louis’ hand away, refusing to have the older boy helping him up.

“Trust me, if I had hit you on purpose, I would’ve done it a lot harder.”

As soon as Harry steadies himself on two feet, Louis points his gun at him and shoots. Harry looks at him dumbfounded. Louis shrugs, “Maybe I’m not so forgiving after all.”

In the five seconds it takes for Harry’s vest to reset, he manages to grab his laser gun and hide behind a different wall. The television glaring above him in silent mockery.

_Harry: 2_

_Louis: 3_

_Zayn: 1_

“Still feelin’ confident?” Louis taunts.

“I’ve made it this far,” he retorts. “I’m still kicking your arse.”

“Wanna bet?”

Harry can hear Louis’ change in position. He turns just in time to shoot Louis as he tries to sneak up behind him.

“Sure,” Harry glances around cautiously, still aware that Zayn is lurking somewhere. “If I win, you can only bring someone home once a week and you have to stop smoking in the flat.”

Louis gives him an incredulous look. “Bringing people home? What are you—”

“If I have to continue listening to you fuck people on a daily basis, I’ll no doubt reconsider hitting you with my car,” he pauses, “on purpose.”

Harry’s eyes narrow as Louis’ mouth curves into a smile. “Three times a week and I get to keep smoking,” he counters.

“Two times. No smoking.”

“I’ll give you the two times a week”—Harry smiles at his victory—“but I’ll keep smoking.”

The smile vanishes.

“No,” he whines. If he is going to make a deal with the devil, he wants to cover all of his bases, and Louis smoking is one of his biggest issues. He strongly despises the smell and hates that his flat constantly smells like it.

He does not understand why someone would partake in that type of activity several times a week. That has to be expensive, right?

“Two times. Take it or leave it.”

Knowing that Louis is very unlikely to change his mind, he concedes. He’d much rather have five nights of sleep a week than none. Even if he does have to put up with Louis smoking constantly.

“But when you smoke open a window.” He scrunches his nose. “That shit stinks.”

“Deal,” Louis says smugly. “If I win, you have to go on a date with me.”

Harry’s mouth twists. “Hell no!”

“Why not?”

“The likelihood of me going on a date with you is just as likely as me agreeing to fuck you again—Never.”

“Again?” Louis laughs. “Love, I wouldn’t call the first time a proper fuck.”

“Go to hell. I’m not going on a date with you.”

“Scared you’re gonna lose?” Louis teases.

“Not even close.”

“Then humour me. If you’re so confident you’re gonna win, this shouldn’t be a problem.”

Louis does have a point. He isn’t scared of losing. Harry does have one big motivator—if he wins, he no longer has to live in misery. It’s well worth the chance.

“Yeah, whatever,” he relents.

“Wanna shake on it?”

Harry peeks out from behind his wall to give Louis an incredulous look. “And give you the opportunity to shoot me? Not a chance,” Harry replies, causing Louis to laugh. Harry’s eyes catch on a flicker of light coming from behind Louis. He smirks.

Seconds later, Louis is shouting as his vest briefly goes dark. Harry takes this momentary distraction as an opportunity to sneak away.

His vest vibrates.

“Fuck.”

Harry knows that he only has one life left. He absolutely cannot get hit again. He is not going on a date with Louis. He can only imagine the teasing he would be forced to endure from Liam and Zayn if the date became a reality.

And he needs to win because his sanity depends on it.

With more caution than he has used the entire game, Harry moves between walls until he is on the other side of the room without Louis or Zayn spotting him. When he reaches the back of the room, Harry looks around for a safe place to hide while he waits for Zayn and Louis to finish their battle.

His mouth twitches when he leans against a wall and it begins to roll.

_Rules are simple, there are no rules._

Louis is going to regret saying that.

Harry pushes the wall to the outermost wall to create a tiny fort. He slips into the opening and pulls it shut to conceal himself.

Now to wait.

What feels like an eternity later, he hears Zayn groan.

_Harry: 1_

_Louis: 1_

He may just have a chance of actually beating Louis.

“It’s just me and you Styles,” Louis bellows from across the room.

“What are you waiting for?” Harry sings. “Come and get me, Tomlinson.”

“Oh, I’ll get you,” Louis’ voice is closer. “’m not going down without a fight.”

“I look forward to peaceful sleep.”

“And I look forward to our date.”

“We’ll see about that,” he responds with a laugh. “You have to find me first.”

Louis’ ability to track someone based on their voice is unfathomable. A mere seconds later, Harry can hear Louis walking closer.

“Getting scared I’ll find you?”

“Not a chance.”

Harry watches through a crack as Louis walks into his sight. Despite the darkness, Harry can see Louis’ eyes darting around the area in search of him.

“Where did you go?” Harry doesn’t respond. “It’s not fair that you lead me over here then stop responding.”

Harry’s mouth curves into a smirk as he quietly aims his laser at Louis. The angle is difficult due to the limited space, but he manages to get a perfect aim.

“I may not play fair, but I do play to win,” Harry informs as he pulls the trigger.

Louis’ vest goes dark.

“What the fuck?” He spins around as Harry pushes the wall away to reveal his hiding spot.

“I win!”

“You cheated!”

“Oh really?” Harry bites his lip in mock worry. “Because I distinctly remember you saying there were no rules.”

Louis groans as Liam, Zayn, and Niall cheer.

Harry smirks. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

But the satisfaction of his victory is short-lived. It is a mere week before Harry is woken by a sound that makes him want to pull his hair out and yell in frustration.

_Thump. Thump._

It is the fourth day in a row that Louis has woken him up. Harry gave Louis the benefit of the doubt for the previous night’s screw up, but he knows that two times in a row is not an accident.

He is taken back to the weeks of misery and sleepless nights as if the deal had never happened.

The familiar thumping pattern is a repetition of speeding up then slowing down. Something Harry despises because he knows that it’s Louis’ way of teasing his partner by holding out as long as possible.

He really should not be this familiar with Louis’ fucking patterns.

His dick twitches in his pants.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he mutters.

_Thump._

This is not how Harry planned to spend his night.

_Thump. Thump._

He’s swimming in his anger.

“Fuck this.”

Rolling off his bed, he grabs the closest pair of pants he can find before padding to the door.

Enough is enough. He cannot, nor will he, put up with it any longer. He refuses to go back to how it was before. The dark days. Dark nights.

He steps into the hallway and up to Louis’ door. The loud knocks echo throughout the corridor. A series of curses then the sound of feet pattering across the floor is heard before the door slowly swings open.

Harry takes a sharp intake of breath at the sight in front of him. He isn’t exactly sure what he’d expected, but a sweaty, heavy-lidded Louis was not it.

Harry takes a small step back, mouth-drying, as he looks at Louis with wide eyes, his mind going a thousand kilometres an hour.

He should have expected this.

What else would Louis be doing in his flat? Having a sleepover?

Upon noticing that the unexpected guest is just Harry, the flushed Louis opens the door of his flat further, his hastily jerked on joggers are hanging low enough to reveal his sharp v-line and bulge. It leaves little to Harry’s imagination. Not that he would need it. He’s seen it all previously.

He thinks back to the desire that flowed through his body during the brief time that he and Louis were intimate. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, which is saying a lot considering they barely even got started before Harry kicked him out.

But that was before Louis became his mortal enemy.

Now, Harry is left with the picture of someone else in Louis’ flat. He feels hot with anger, a bit of desire, and…jealousy?

Louis coughs, bringing Harry out of his thoughts, his voice deep and scratchy as he asks, “What are you doing here?”

“I…uh,” he stutters, his mind going into a deep abyss whilst replaying the sound over and over inside his head. “You broke the deal.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow. “Wanna come in?”

Harry merely nods before brushing past Louis into the flat. Once inside, Harry instantly realises that the flat is empty save for himself and Louis. He also notices an open bottle of lube and dildo lying on the bed which means that Louis didn’t have anyone over after all, and he just interrupted Louis whilst he was in the middle of fucking himself.

“I just—” He looks from the dildo to Louis with wide eyes, mortified. All this time he thought that Louis was bringing people over when in reality he was just fucking himself. “I thought you had someone over, but you…” His eyes land on the dildo again. “Fuck!”

“That’s one way to put it,” Louis laughs. The smug tone of his voice makes Harry feel even more humiliated. He drops himself onto Louis’ bed before placing his head in his hands.

“But you—all those times you were really just…” Harry motions toward the dildo and a smile tugs on Louis’ face. “And the bet?”

“Not my fault you assumed I had people over every night,” Louis shrugs.

Harry’s regrets for storming to Louis’ flat disappear.

“Let me get this straight—”

“Mate, I don’t think anything about this is straight,” Louis jokes.

Harry glares at him. “You played me,” he huffs. “You didn’t care how many days I allowed people over, you only cared about smoking in the flat.”

Louis hums but does not confirm nor deny the accusations.

Harry crosses his arms before standing up from the bed. “Why do I get the feeling that you are just doing this to piss me off?”

“I do love making you all hot and bothered.”

“Fuck you.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You try so hard to pretend you don’t want me, but everyone can see that—”

Harry clenches his teeth, “Shut up.”

“You’re hot and cold.”

“Louis,” he warns.

“One second you want to fuck then the next you—”

Harry raises his right hand with full intentions of hitting Louis, but the swing is intercepted.

A small battle commences between the two boys. It’s a mess of swinging limbs. Louis is more physically fit and obviously the more skilled fighter. He is quickly able to block any movements that Harry attempts to make.

Eventually, Harry gets pushed against the door. All his attempts of breaking free from Louis are ineffective as the older boy grabs ahold of his wrists.

Harry doesn’t give up. He continues to fight against Louis’ hold.

Somewhere along the way, their lips slam together and Louis releases his wrists. It’s unknown who initiated the contact, but it is neither soft or sweet. It is full of teeth clanking and lip biting.

As their legs intertwine, Harry slowly traces patterns up Louis’ spine before gripping his hips. Louis clinches fistfuls of Harry’s white t-shirt and pulls him closer making the distance between them non-existent.

Harry cannot think clearly. Being this close to Louis has slowly stripped away all of his restraint. His brain is telling him that he hates Louis and that he should be pushing him away but his body cannot get enough.

He breaks the kiss in favour of trailing his lips down Louis’ jaw to the spot just under his ear and sucking lightly.

“Harry,” Louis gasps, bucking his hips. The movement causes Harry’s eyes to roll backward.

“I—fuck,” Harry breathes, voice not entirely steady as the shock waves of pleasure sizzles through him. The need to be with Louis defies any reason. “Bed. Now.”

They stumble messily toward the bed and Harry pushes Louis backward before placing kisses across his silky shoulder.

Their clothes are swiftly tossed to the floor and their bodies mould together. As Harry is reaching for the lube, Louis asks hesitantly, “Are you sure? I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Harry gives him a scathing look as he moves his fingers toward Louis’ bum. “Unless you plan to tell me that you are the person who eats crisps obnoxiously loud during my bio lecture then”— he quickly presses two digits into Louis’ previously stretched hole—“I’m sure.”

“Well…” Louis starts, causing Harry to glare at him. He bends his fingers in just the right angle to press against Louis’ prostate. “Fuck,” Louis moans, voice broken as he bucks his hips upward. “I’m joking!”

“You’re not funny,” he deadpans.

“I think I am.”

“Of course you do.”

The night continues with laughter, condoms, and thumping headboards. A sound that Harry doesn’t seem to hate nearly as much when it is a product of him with Louis.

After Louis cleans up their mess, Harry snuggles into his chest, eyes heavy and feeling content. Maybe Liam was right, he just needed to give Louis a chance.

He doesn’t know what the high of smoking weed feels like, but he’s sure that it is almost as pleasurable as the dopamine running through his system as a result of the post-sex high.

“Harry?”

He doesn’t bother to open his eyes, but he hums to let Louis know he’s listening.

“We had sex.”

If Harry’s eyes weren’t so heavy, he’d be rolling them. “Is that what we were doing?” he asks bluntly. “I thought we were having a tea party.”

“That means my chances of getting you to go on a date with me must be pretty high, yeah?”

“What?”

“When we made the bet, you told me the likelihood of us going on a date is as likely as us having sex again,” Louis explains.

“Going on a date with you would belittle my victory,” Harry replies, voice drowsy.

“Then we can make another bet.”

“Yeah? And what would that be?” Harry asks.

“That I can make you fall in love with me.”

“I don’t know,” Harry states, snuggling his head further into Louis’ chest. “I still hate you.”

His actions completely contradicting his statement. It’s the farthest thing from the truth and they both know it.

“We’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think!
> 
> If you enjoyed it, you can find the fic post [here](https://louhazpride.tumblr.com/post/625262312416313344/hatetosmoke)!


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